For Real
by nativeNYer21
Summary: Jesse and Paul's constant squabbles can't keep me from trying to figure the whole mess out. We may not be going about this the right way, we may not even have a clue what we're doing, but I have to find out why. I WILL find out why...
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer**- Quotes at the beginning of each chapter are taken from Meg Cabot's books; characters belong to her as well. Basically, everything you recognize.

No disrespect is meant towards the author; I apologize in advance for Paul's comments…

Enjoy!

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Introduction

_" 'You won't find them in there,' he said with a cryptic nod at the textbooks bulging from my arms._

_'I won't find what in here?'_

_"The answers you're looking for.' His blue-eyed gaze was intense._

_"Why you, of all people, were chosen. And what, exactly, you are.' "_

Before I take you on the same journey I found myself embarking upon, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Sam Kelley, I am sixteen years old, and I love to read, especially a certain series I particularly enjoy.

I always knew there was something mysterious about the books, I just never quite determined what it was. That is, until that very day, where my dreams and fantisies were made to live right before my very eyes. But I never suspected anything of the sort to ever occur.

I mean, really. Take a look at the cover, for instance. Seems innocent enough...

"MEG CABOT-- the mediator: Haunted" or

"MEG CABOT-- the mediator: Twilight"

But really, once I finish telling you my story, you'll know.

It isn't just a story.

It's for real.


	2. The Beginning

The Beginning

_I started instinctively to pull away, but his fingers suddenly lifted from the pages and siezed my wrist._

_'Jesse's dead, but that doesn't mean you have to act like you are, too.'_

_'I dont,' I protested. 'I--'_

_But I didn't get to finish my little speech, because right in the middle of it, he leaned over and kissed me._

I slammed the book shut, my heart beating and my mind racing. I dragged myself, hard as it was, out of the bed and steered myself in the direction of the bathroom. Halfway there I forgot where I was going, and never did end up brushing my teeth that morning. Maybe that's why Aaron backed away from me later that day, because of a certain fowl smell coming from my mouth...

Anyway. Stumbling around my bedroom, I only had one thing on my mind: _The Mediator_. I had just finished the very last book in the series, and for some reason the ending left me dissatisfied.

I'm not sure when I started this "waking up early and reading in the morning before my alarm goes off " thing. I think it started when I bought the book, after realizing how beautiful the morning rays of sunshine looked as they climbed through the blinds and carressed my face.

But I had certainly regretted it that morning, as I was in a sort of dazed state, having awaken much earlier than usual to finish the compelling tale.

When I was relatively ready to go--if you could call it ready--I headed out the front door and proceeded down the busy street to East Adams High.

"Are you okay, Sam? You look exausted." It was beginning to be one of those days, you know the kind. The kind of day when you count down every period until you get to go home to your precious snuggle bed and sleep for the rest of eternity.

Aaron looked at me with a worried expression developing on his face while I picked at the remaining beans on my lunch tray.

"Seriously, I'm fine," I said to him with a tone that suggested the opposite. "I just... had a late night." More like an early morning. I was up at the freaking crack of dawn reading that book.

"Okaaay..." Aaron conceded, obviously not convinced but also not wanting to press me on the subject anymore. He probably assumed it was PMS or something, which it wasn't. Even though he wasn't _entirely _off base, since a lot of times that _did_ put me in a similar mood.

Anyway. As I unconsciously fiddled with my beans, I looked up at Aaron. He had been my best friend, since the sixth grade. Even though we had been through some tough times together, I knew he would always be by my side.

Aaron had dark brown hair, sort of the color of dark chocolate, which I _love_(I mean the chocolate part--not the hair part). He also had blue eyes, which reminded me of a character in a book I had read not too long ago...

Aaron was actually pretty hot, but I never thought of him that way. I always just thought of him as... well, Aaron.

Breaking me away from my thoughts, Aaron began talking to me again. "So. Are you doing anything after school today? Because I was thinking we could hang out by McDonalds today... or are you going to dodge me and go home and sulk some more?"

"Sorry," I said to him, not wanting to see his reaction or start up another interrogation session. "Mom needs me home today, something about helping paint the family room... or something."

That was a total, spontaneous lie. But he didn't have to know that. Really what I wanted to do was go on MCBC, chat about _Twilight_, and sit in front of my computer for hours like a bump on a log.

"Okay," he said again. Aaron could totally see through it, like he always would, but he didn't press me about it and acted like it was no big deal. I knew he was curious about my behavior--I never turned down a visit to Mickey D's--but he didn't let on. He was always good like that, putting my needs before his own. It was one of the things I loved about him.

The bell startled us both and I rushed to clean up my half-eaten lunch. Aaron waved goodbye to me and headed off to his sixth period class. I started off in the direction of my own, part of me wishing I hadn't turned down the invitation to McDonald's. I had a feeling that by the time school was done I'd be really hungry, since I just played with my lunch and barely ate any of it.

It was when I was walking home from school later that day when I noticed a shop I had never seen before. Sure, I had never actively looked at the buildings along the familiar roadway, but I was sure this one was brand-new.

Although it didn't look new at all. In fact, it looked as if it'd been there forever.

The sign above the door, as near as I could tell, read "Delicatessan", and since I was so hungry from not eating my totally delicious school lunch Mystery Meat, I decided to stop in and see if there was any candy.

I opened up the door and a little bell tinkled. I sidled up to the counter, scanning the deli for anything high in sugar and low in nutrition.

But what I saw at the counter wasn't candy. At least, not the kind of candy you eat.

Standing at the counter was the hottest guy I'd ever seen, my age, who almost _exactly_ resembled Aaron.

Who, in turn, almost _exactly _resembled the bad boy from the book I had so dilligently read that very morning.

So. There I am, gazing up at this guy, not because he was so hot--although that _was_ part of it--but because he looked exactly like how... how _he_ was supposed to look. The guy from _Twilight_.

After about a minute or so went by with me just standing there and him reading a magazine taken from the rack in front of him, he finally realized there was someone standing in front of him. He raised one eyebrow at me and went, "May I be of service?"

For some reason I was rendered unable to speak. I fully gaped up at him for another ten seconds, and after another five seconds or so was finally able to wrench a word out of my mouth. But I did not, like I planned on, ask him where the candy was. Instead, I spoke the very though that had been crossing my mind for the past two minutes.

"...Paul?" I asked, incredulously. I had no idea why I had even said that, because it was obvious the guy wasn't Paul. I mean, _hello_. Paul is fake. Right?

But total and complete shock waved over me when he, looking as perplexed and stunned as I had just began to feel, asked me, "How do you know my name?"

At this point I was so stunned I could not have even moved myself in any direction if I tried. My eyes were still fixated on this guy, who, apparently had the same name as a character from a book. And looked exactly like him, no less. The only things that apparently still worked on my entire body were my lips, since I had somehow been able to squeak, "Paul... Slater? Are you... are you Paul Slater?"

At this, the guy studied me with wide eyes. Wide, ice-blue eyes.

"Who are you? How do you know who I am? Are you... no, it can't be... can it? Are you Suze? Or are you acquainted with someone named Suze Simon?"

At the mention of Suze's name I knew for a fact that this was, in fact, _the_ Paul Slater. Although I did not know how it could even be possible. But here he was, Paul Slater, _Paul Slater_, standing behind a deli counter--a _deli counter_--in East Adams, New York. My town. _What the hell..._

"You are! You are Paul, aren't you? How the... how did you get here?" For some reason I was slightly smiling, I have no idea why. Maybe because I was the envy of so many other girls who would've given up so much to be in my position just then...

Paul, as that was obvious who he was, continued to stare at me, complete confusion spread across his entire face, combined with extreme curiosity. "Wait a minute. How do you know me? What do you mean, _how did I get here_? I've never seen you before in my life... so far as I know..."

He looked thoughtful, and as he was thinking I began to, as well.

I was thinking of a sign. I was thinking of the sign above the doorway, which I had not paid much attention to due to my sugar craving (funny how at the moment I hadn't the slightest craving for something sweet). Sure, the sign had read "Delicatessan", but above that was a word I hadn't noticed before, because it was slightly smaller and less conspicuous.

The entire sign read, "Slater's Delicatessan".

Whoa. _Whoa_.

This was just _too weird_.

I hadn't noticed that Paul had given up trying to identify me, and as I was solving my little sign mystery he had been studying me, trying to piece together his own puzzle. Frankly, I didn't blame him--and he looked even more confused and startled than I had been.

"Tell me. How do you know me?" I snapped out of my thoughts and focused my eyes back on him again, him still looking at me with those big, blue eyes, confusion swirling through them as he wondered who this girl was who spontaneously showed up at his deli counter.

I did the only thing within reason I could think of to do. I pulled out the book, _Twilight_--which I had so conveniently stored in my pocketbook--and shoved it in his face.

"You're Paul Slater! I don't understand how it could've happened, but you are a main character in Meg Cabot's book series, _The Mediator_, and somehow you're... well, you're here."

Paul no longer looked confused. Now he looked at me with a disbelieving expression, also a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Right..." he said to me, as if it was high time somebody came and picked me up and brought me back to Bedlam. Although nobody really needed to do that, because I felt like I was there already.

"Seriously," I pleaded, opening the book to a section of a chapter which contained both his and Suze's names in it, and once again shoving it at him.

As he read the section I'd opened the book to, I saw his face change from disbelieving to astonishment to bafflement to confusion and back to disbelief, all in a matter of seconds.

"It can't be..." he was muttering to himself as he read line after line of the story. "It's all... I remember... how did you?... How did she..."

When he had read enough, he looked up at me again, completely wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

"This book. I have no idea where the hell you got it from, but it's fact," he said, slamming the book closed at the same time as he said _fact_, for emphasis. "It's all true, every line, every sentence, every word I read. As far as I can judge, the whole thing is probably true." As he said this, he came around the counter, walked up to me, and handed me my book.

"Now," I said, still totally dumb-struck by the day's turn of events, "How did you come to be in my hometown?"

Paul looked away for a minute, then looked back at me. "There is a lot you should know, about me and how everything turned out like it did. But I can't tell you here, someone might overhear." He leaned over the side of the counter and located a pen and a scrap of paper, and proceeded to scribble something on it. "Meet me here," he said, handing me the slip, "tomorrow at five pm. I'll be waiting." Then he looked at me, shut his eyes, and opened them again, as if trying to confirm that this really was, indeed, reality.

Then he walked away.


	3. Uncovered

Uncovered

_"In the meantime, remember:_

_If you give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. But if you teach him to fish, he'll eat all the fish you might have caught for yourself._

_Just a little something to keep in mind."_

_Washington and Bellmore_, is what the slip read. That was an intersection along one of the more quiet roads, where I happened to know an old, run down house stood.

The next day I was walking, along Washington Street, at 4:55 pm. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about what had happened the day before, and even in my sleep I was dreaming about it.

I found the place where the two streets intersected, and I stopped and looked around at the corner.

I hadn't known where, exactly, Paul had wanted me to meet him, so I sank down on the curb and waited.

About two or three minutes later I heard leaves crackling on the ground behind me, and I heard someone say, "Hey."

I turned around and saw Paul looking back at me, looking hot as ever, but not meaning to... this time.

"I believe we have some things to discuss," he said, which was exactly what I was thinking.

"Sit," I suggested, and so he sat down next to me.

"So..." I said, my voice trailing off. "Where do we begin?"

Paul looked back at me. "I guess I'll tell you my story first." He looked pained, and then proceeded to tell me how he ended up here.

"You see, a few nights after Suze and I went on our little... expedition, my family experienced some troubles." He sighed, and looked even more pained and annoyed than before. "My father bet most of our money on the stock market, and lost it all. Shortly after that I spoke to Suze, and she told me that she had to go back to New York for a little while. No explanation, nothing. I haven't seen her since.

"Since my family could no longer afford the house we were living in in Seattle, we had to sell it and move into a smaller, cheaper one. I was concerned with Suze, so I suggested New York, and everyone seemed to think that was brilliant. So now, we own that deli shop we met in yesterday, and," pointing to the house behind us, he said, "we live here."

This was too much for me. I needed some time to process this information, but Paul continued on.

"We would not have been able to afford either the Deli building or the house, unless my grandfather hadn't died." Paul, I was surprised to see, actually looked slightly sad conveying this news. "If he hadn't left us some of his money, I don't know what would've happened to us. It's unfortunate that he left the house to his other son, but at least we got something."

Paul looked at me with such a disappointed expression that I was overcome by a wave of pity for him.

"So that's... basically it." He gazed at me and I looked down at the sidewalk beneath us.

"Wow..." I said, brilliantly, while attempting to process all the information he had just dropped into my lap. "So... do you know what happened to Suze?"

Paul looked confused and surprised--an expression which I'm sure we were both getting used to by now. "Well... I was sure... I thought _you_ might know."

I blinked.

"Um, hello. Why would _I_ know where she is? _You_ were the one to have seen her most recently." I paused. "Wait. Let me revise that. You were the only one to have seen her _at_ _all_. Up until yesterday I thought this was all just a fiction story."

Paul just gave me a look like I was missing something obvious. "Um, yeah. That's the point. You have the book, and the book, as we've already discovered, is word-for-word the process of our lives. By reading on we could possibly find out, or at least get some clues as to where she is."

I blinked again. Clearly I had forgotten that the mind of Paul Slater did not work in the same way that some of our own, regular minds worked.

"Um… okay." I stumbled. Already Paul probably took me for some kind of freak wizard girl. I didn't want him to also think I was stupid.

Paul looked assured. "Then it's settled. We leave tomorrow morning."

_You're thinking too fast for me, Paul_. "What?!? Why?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "To find her, of course!! We're going to the city!"

_Oh._


	4. On the Road

I'm SO SORRY that it took me so long to do this!!! I'll try not to procrastinate, going forward.

Here's the next chapter; thanks again to all my reviewers.

On The Road

"_I promised I wouldn't kill him," he said. "I didn't say anything about keeping him from dying in the first place."_

_I blinked up at him, uncomprehending. "What… what are you talking about?" I stammered._

"_You figure it out," he said. He leaned down and kissed me lightly on my frozen lips. "Good night, Suze."_

Okay. Toothbrush… check. Fresh underwear… check. Frilly lace bra…

Wait a minute…

"ADAM!!! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY BRA?!?"

Instantly my little brother burst into the room, carrying my new Coach purse in one hand and a bunch of makeup in the other. Needless to say, that pissed me off pretty bad, but after I registered the fact that he had my frilly Victoria's Secret push-up strapped around his chest (which was only reserved for special occasions), I both wanted to fall to the floor in hysterics or chase him around the room making threats about parental involvement.

"I FEEL LIKE A WO-MAN!!!!" The screechy sound out of my brother's throat topped it off, and I leaned more towards the hysterical fit of laughter than the tattletale option.

"Yeah, and you look like one too. Now take off all my feminine products or the guys at school might have something to say about you…"

At this, Adam immediately dropped all the stuff contained in his arms. He poked a finger at me and fixed me with a death glare.

"Hey. I am NOT gay, if that's what you're thinking. People are always saying that but it's NOT TRUE!!"

I have to say, that whole statement could not be taken seriously by me, due to the fact that he still had the bra strapped around his chest.

I told him this and he immediately ripped it off and stormed out of the room, muttering to himself.

"…those stupid football guys… calling ME gay and then turning around and patting each other's butts…"

I chuckled once more to myself as I picked the bra off the floor. Sadly, I'd have to run it through the wash again seeing as how it had Adam's seventh grader germs on it.

…Don't ask me why I was even bringing a lacy Victoria's Secret bra along in the first place.

Anyway.

After I finished packing for what could end up being a cross-Manhattan trip, I brought my bag into the living room and said goodbye to my mom, who thought I was going on a camping trip with my friend Sandra from school.

Funny how ignorant parents can be sometimes.

It wasn't a long ride to the street corner where Paul and I met the day before. We had decided to meet there at 8:00 AM today, and then the both of us would bike down to the train station. We were catching a train to Manhattan at 8:30.

When I got to the specified corner, I laid the bike down upon the grass and plopped down on the curb. Just sitting there, where I had been yesterday, got me to thinking. _How are we supposed to find Suze in this huge city? We don't have any leads, or… where are we going to sleep, anyway?_

But all that worry just melted away when I saw Paul emerge from the front of the house. He flashed me a quick smile, and he looked so sure and confident of the adventure we were about to embark upon, that I knew he had everything under control.

"Hey," he said to me, as he pulled up alongside me with his own bike and stuff. "Got everything?"

"Yeah, everything's in there."

Paul got up on his bike and motioned for me to do the same. "Okay, let's head out, then."

I hopped on the bike and strapped my few bags to the back. It wouldn't be a problem balancing it since I brought so little. We were on an adventure, not a vacation. Only what was absolutely necessary I brought along.

…stop looking at me like that. I know, I know, bra not exactly necessary, but still. Considering the circumstances (traveling to the city with Paul: inspiration of the PFC and all-over hottest bad-boy in town), I would consider it a necessity of its own kind.

Stop it. I know you're jealous but you don't have to make a big fuss about it.

Anyway. Back to biking.

As soon as I made sure everything was strapped on tight, I hopped on and started pedaling in the direction of the station. It would be about a five minute ride from here to there (despite the not-so-hot neighborhood, Paul's house was in close proximity to almost anyplace in town worth going to).

We got going and, with the wind in my face and Paul just ahead of me on my left, everything seemed perfect.

Perfect. Ha, that's kinda funny.


	5. On the Road Part Two!

I felt bad that I made you all wait so long for that last chapter, so I whipped this one up quick. I wanted it to be longer (I probably should have just tacked this on to the end of the last one), but I think this was a natural place to stop. As always, thanks to everyone who reviews.

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On the Road (Part Two!)

"…_You need to be with someone your family and your friends can actually _see_. You need to be with someone who can grow old with you. You need to be with someone _alive_."_

We soon arrived at the train station, after a short (but mostly uphill) bike ride. Paul asserted that we should probably leave the bikes hidden in the bushes, because public transportation in the city was frequent and inexpensive. Besides, who wants to haul a bicycle all around town, anyway?

So after that was taken care of, we purchased our tickets and boarded.

I hadn't been on a train in a while, so it was different than the last time I had been. This train was a split-level (we were sitting in the lower level because it had less people. For some reason, having less people was preferable to Paul). It had seats in rows of two with an aisle down the center, and in the middle of each car there were seats lining the walls. Paul and I chose this section because we could stretch our bodies across the whole row. I had one side, he had the other.

We slipped our belongings underneath the seats and whipped out magazines, books and such to keep us occupied during the trip. It would be about an hour until we arrived at Penn Station.

The train finally started moving. I looked over at Paul, taking up what looked to be about five seats. It was kind-of comical, seeing him like that, already deeply engrossed in a book by someone called Nietzsche.

It made me feel inferior, me on the other side of the room, clutching the latest issue of _Cosmo_.

He must have felt my gaze on him, because he looked over at me and gave me the One-eyebrow Look. I turned away, my cheeks feeling hot. Paul was such a charmer, and he knew it. He did that on purpose.

I guess I sort-of knew why Suze was so flustered in his presence.

I went back to my magazine, and I guess at some point I dozed off, because it wasn't a long while until I heard movement on the other side of the car.

Paul stood up and stretched, then seeing that I was awake, smiled at me and said, "Hey, Sam, I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back."

I stared at him with only one eye open. "…Bathroom?" I asked for confirmation.

He smirked a little at me. "Yes, the bathroom. Is that okay with you?"

I opened both my eyes and nodded, not wanting to look like more of a doofus than I already did.

Shortly after he left, the train slowed down. We had come to what was probably our second or third stop or so (I knew we had about four stops total. I didn't exactly keep track, so long as we got to the right place in the end.

"_This stop is …Mineola._"_ DING!_ The doors opened. _"Please enter and exit the train with caution."_

I heard muffled footsteps above my head. A few people spilled into our section, but not very many. Thankfully the noise of all the new riders wasn't loud enough to keep me from dozing off.

That wouldn't have mattered anyhow, because there was something else that ended up keeping me from sleeping.

Shortly after the _DING!_ Followed by the doors closing, I heard footsteps nearing my head.

"Excuse me, Miss, may I sit here?" A masculine voice inquired.

"Sure," I answered, not even looking up. I'd left a few seats open past my head, so I didn't mind if anyone sat there. Just so long as I couldn't see or smell anything funky.

Shortly after that, Paul returned from the bathroom. I peeked at him from underneath my fleece blanket, and he gave me another smirk. "Well, I have returned from the bathroom, as you so graciously allowed me to—"

All of a sudden Paul's grin changed over to a look of obvious displeasure.

"What the hell."

I tilted my head in the direction of his gaze. The stranger, who had been quietly enjoying a book, looked up. As soon as he did, he bore the same contemptuous stare.

"Why, hello, Paul."

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OOOOO, a MYSTERY GUY!! Well, I'm sure most of us (if not all of us) know who it is, anyway (some of us especially smart people should have gotten it just after reading the quote at the beginning). Thanks to reviewer Craziness-n-love, for recommending the idea behind this chapter! 


	6. Familiar Faces

Hey there.

I suck at life, I know. I haven't updated for like, a million years. Today (now that school's out and I have all the time in the world) I am going out-and-out crazy fanfiction writer and doing like the next three chapters. Then I can update this story with relative regularity.

As always, thanks to everyone who reviews, and thanks for putting up with me. Don't yell at me too much……

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Familiar Faces

"'_Slater,' Jesse said in a not particularly friendly voice._

'_Jesse,' Paul said pleasantly. "How are you this evening?'_

'_I was doing better,' Jesse said, 'before you got here.'"_

_Okay, could this _honestly_ get any weirder?_ There I was, riding in to the city, with Paul, who up until days ago I thought didn't exist except in my favorite book series. And then, previously mentioned Paul engages in a staring contest with some random guy who had just boarded the train.

And PS, said random guy was quite, quite good-looking.

And polite.

And knew Paul.

And hated him.

…

_OH MY GOD._

All of a sudden, it dawned on me who this guy was. I mean, _how_ could I not have figured it out before?

"JESSE!" I exclaimed, not hiding my surprise as I stared into the face of Suze's lover.

He turned to look at me, apparently just as surprised as I was. Maybe more.

But for different reasons.

"You… you know me?" Jesse's eyes bore into mine, trying to piece together the mystery that had just begun to unravel in front of him.

Paul, just then, decided to burst into the conversation—what was barely even a conversation, at that. He grabbed my wrist and attempted to drag me away. "We were just leaving, but thanks anyway, _Jesse_." He said the last word as scornfully as he could.

Jesse didn't take the hint, however. Or maybe he did, and just disreguarded it.

"Wait a minute. You can't expect me to leave this alone. A girl I never met before meets me on a train and knows my name. Explain _that_, Paul."

"I don't really think that's any of your business." Paul could sound really bratty when he wanted to. He looked up at Jesse, defiantly.

"But _I_ think it is." Jesse stepped forward, forcing Paul to move back. Both of them knew who was in charge here.

"WAIT a minute." I stepped between them before anything regrettable occurred. I knew that fights would often erupt if the two of them were within ten feet of each other for longer than two minutes. I took a breath. "If we could just sit down for a minute and piece this together like _civilized individuals_," I stared each of them down, "then we might actually _get_ somewhere." I pointed to a seat across the car. "Paul, sit." I pointed to a seat near me. "Jesse, sit."

No, I did not do that on purpose.

…_What?_

"Okay. First of all, my name is Samantha, and I live in East Adams. I became acquainted with Paul after an exceedingly awkward exchange at Slater's Delicatessen. Long story short, apparently… _The Mediator_ is… _real_."

Jesse shrugged. "Of course mediators are real. Suze is one."

"No, stupid." Paul's voice shot across the car. "Some chick named Meg Cabot wrote a book series called _The Mediator_. The weird part is, we're in it."

Jesse's expression was nothing less than patronizing. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Paul stared back at Jesse for several seconds, but suddenly regained his wits and motioned to my bag. "Show him. Show him the book, Sam."

So I did.

I reached underneath the seat and pulled out my suitcase. I handed Jesse book after book—because of the nature of our trip, I brought along the entire series.

He cracked open _Shadowland_ first.

Paul and I watched as several varying expressions passed over Jesse's features. First extreme surprise, then a smile, then more surprise, and finally, "HA! So _that's_ what she was thinking!"

Paul and I looked at each other.

"Jesse, you're missing the point. Your life… all of your experiences with Suze are documented in this book. Paul and I are trying to discover why. And in addition, what's happened to Suze."

"Oh." He closed the book quickly… and instead of returning it to me, stuffed it in his bag.

_Well…_

"I understand. What will we do now?"

Paul and I looked at each other once more. He made a grunting noise and motioned for me to go over there.

I sat on the seat next to him.

Paul jabbed a finger at me and said in a hushed tone, "He is NOT coming with us."

_O-kay…_

I sighed. Their feud was never ending. "Paul. Why not? He could be really helpful."

"It's just that—well, he… Jesse is so… _annoying!_"

_You're just jealous that he can throw a better punch than you… and kick your ass pretty bad._

"Paul. You won't have to talk to him. He'll stay out of your way, so long as you stay out of his.

Paul stared me down. He didn't like it. Oh, no. He did not like the situation _one bit_…

"Fine."

_What?_ Since when did Paul agree so easily?

I couldn't help but express my surprise out loud.

Paul sighed. "We've got to figure this out. And I _know_ Suze is in trouble. I'm doing it for her."

Okay then. That was that.

We turned back to Jesse.

"So?" Jesse looked at us expectantly. "What now?"

I looked at Paul once more for confirmation. He nodded.

"We're joining forces. Welcome to the club."

* * *

Was that too short? I can't tell. Next update will come SOON!!!! I promise!!!!!!!

…And REVIEW! That will motivate me more!!!


	7. Back to Basics

Yay! Update did NOT, as usual, take five months. Within the week of last update, even! I really am proud of myself. I hope you like this chapter, 'cause I _really_ enjoyed writing it…

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Back to Basics

"_Really, it would have been too much to ask for me to have a normal summer. I mean, a summer without any paranormal incidents._

_But then, I'd never had one of those before in my life. Why should my sixteenth summer be any different?"_

Paul and Jesse endured the rest of the train ride with little disagreement. Although I caught one eyeing the other on more than one occasion, I was surprised at how well they were behaving.

Granted, it had only been an hour out of the many days that we were to be embarking upon this "mission", of sorts (well, let's hope it wasn't _too many_ days. It was Saturday morning, leaving us only today and tomorrow until we became truants). But still. I would take whatever quiet I could get.

Once we arrived at Penn Station, the three of us kind of stood on the platform, gawking. Clearly we hadn't thought this plan through. Now that we were in the city, we didn't know where to go from there.

Finally, Paul broke the uneasy silence. (Well, he broke the silence, at least, but his comment made us all the more uneasy.)

"So what happens now?"

…

We all just kind of looked at each other. I looked at Paul's face; Paul, who used to think he knew all the answers, but was now the one asking all the questions. Strangely, this Paul seemed different from the one I'd come to know in the books. This Paul was more humble.

Maybe his family's loss had forced him to work for what he wanted. The only thing he's ever worked for in his life was trying to win over Suze.

Maybe his failure at _that_ had changed his outlook on life.

Whatever the case, I was glad that Paul and Jesse were being so agreeable.

_Jesse…_

As I turned to look at Jesse, it occurred to me that I hadn't really thought about _his_ story much. What brought _him_ all the way to New York? What were his original plans in the city?

I figured they weren't important, otherwise he wouldn't have ditched them to spend time with _Paul_…

The sharp sound of an incoming train's horn pushed me back into the present. I tried to figure out what to do next.

"Well, first thing's first," I said, stating what should have been the obvious. "We gotta find a place to stay."

Paul and Jesse snapped back into reality. Scratching his head, Paul suggested, "Okay, well, you're the New York expert. Lead the way."

I sighed, the invisible burden on my shoulders now feeling the teeniest bit heavier. "Allright, then. Let's find a directory."

I set off in search of one, with Paul and Jesse shuffling along behind me.

It's funny; one would rarely hear the manes "Paul and Jesse" used in the same sentence, unless accompanied by the words, "smash," "bloody" or "broken nose".

And now, here they were, standing within ten feet of one another, and _not_ trying to chop off the other's head.

It's amazing how much can change in twenty-four hours. If I had happened to simply bypass the deli yesterday, I would be at home, daydreaming about… well, the people I was currently with.

The three of us had located a sign that somewhat resembled a directory. It was difficult to read because of all the graffiti, but we picked out a few potential places. The directory didn't list prices, so we went by stars. We figured anything three stars and down would be affordable.

Pretty sad, huh?

Paul whipped out his cell and dialed the first few numbers we'd picked out. He made various faces when he heard what each operator had to say (half-closed eyes that meant, "you've got to be kidding me", a sarcastic smirk that read, "oh REALLY", and a raised-eyebrow and half-smile that meant, "and how much do you charge for THAT particular service?"), but finally seemed okay with a number near the bottom of the list: It was a motel called the Chamberlain. It didn't have any stars next to the name; I wasn't going to ask what that meant.

He nodded to us as he placed his phone back in his pocket. "This one is in The Bronx. The rate is $42 per night, per room."

"Wow… that cheap and that close to the city? What a score!" I was pleased with the success of this trip so far. We were doing pretty well, if I do say so myself…

Paul shrugged and looked off to the side. "Yeah, well… don't be surprised if it's a total dump…"

Jesse had no comment in the matter. He was obviously lost in though. Over what, God only knew…

We weren't going to walk all the way to the hotel, so we stepped outside the station and flagged a cab. We told the driver the address, and we were there shortly.

After arriving and unloading our stuff from the trunk, the taxi guy pulled out, leaving us to admire our new home for the next who-knew-how-many days.

It was crap.

The three of us just stood there, with varying expressions of bewilderment present on our faces, admiring _just how bad_ it was.

There was a hole in the roof. The left side of the front steps was crumbling. The door hung crooked on its hinges.

Ew.

_Well, it wasn't like we were going to sleep on the street_, I told myself, although that might have been the better option, anyway…. I glanced at Jesse and Paul, on either side of me, and after hesitating a bit—give us a break, come on—we proceeded to climb the crumbling steps and enter the dilapidated building.

We walked up to the front desk—or what was supposed to be the front desk: one of those tables that folds up for storage, with a flower pot in the corner—and made arrangements for our room. After a bit of a squabble between Paul and Jesse over the sleeping arrangements, and having to sleep next to THAT GUY, we determined that we would all share one room, with two double beds inside.

…You know. For safety purposes.

The woman at the desk (who was in just as bad of a condition as the hotel she managed) gave us a key, as well as directions to our room. As we walked as hastily as we could away from the lobby, the woman gave us a bit of a tip: "Don't bother any of the cats. They're very cranky."

"Cats?" Jesse allowed a smile to creep over his face. He looked back over his shoulder at the woman.

"…You have cats?"

The woman gave Jesse a wry smile. "Lots."

I tugged on Jesse's sleeve and proceeded to pull him up the stairs to the second floor.

Our room number was 237. Paul marched at the front of the procession, shaking his head all the way. We finally came to the room at the end of the hall. Paul unlocked the door and the three of us stepped inside.

At this point, we were expecting it to be pretty bad… but _this_? The curtains were stained, the cigarette smell was impossible to ignore, and the bathroom…

Okay, you get it. It was _bad_.

Not to mention that there was a cat sprawled out across one of the beds.

"KITTY!!!!!!" Jesse squealed with glee and promptly charged it. The cat jumped up from its comfortable spot on the bed and ran around the room, with Jesse trailing in hot pursuit.

How masculine of him.

The cat leapt out the window—not that it was open, no; it had a big, gaping hole in the glass—and Jesse lowered his head in disappointment.

Paul couldn't help but snicker, and before he could make some embarrassing comment—he had one ready, I could tell—I proceeded to deal with the more pressing issues…

"OKAY guys, why don't you put your stuff away and then we'll sit down and talk about our plans for the next few days. Fine?"

Paul sighed and Jesse kept his head lowered, still filled with sorrow over the loss of his would-be pet.

The three of us began putting stuff out of the way; placing suitcases in corners and toiletries in the bathroom…

"You're going to have to move that."

"Why? Do you have a problem with my razor being next to the sink?"

"Yes, because I was going to put my toothbrush there."

"Oh, well my razor is there now, so you can just find another place to put your toothbrush."

"You don't understand. I ALWAYS put my toothbrush next to the sink. I never NOT have my toothbrush next to the sink. I can't function without my toothbrush next to the sink!"

"Geez, obsessive compulsive, much?"

"Jesse, just move the razor."

"I think not. Sorry."

"JESSE. MOVE YOUR RAZOR."

"NO."

"—GUYS! _SHUT UP_!! Paul, find another place to put your stupid toothbrush. Jesse, stop being annoying."

I sighed. _All that fuss over a freaking toothbrush… just wait until it's time to discuss sleeping arrangements…_

I fell back across the bed (which I noticed was lower on the right side), trying not to think, but being unsuccessful. _There has got to be a better way to do this..._

If there was, we sure hadn't found it yet.

* * *

HAHA! I loved that toothbrush bit. It just came out of nowhere. I have to do that stuff more often… 

You just wait until they talk about sleeping arrangements… Jesse and Paul will _really_ get into it then…

Anyway, hope you liked it. If you did, make my day. REVIEW!

PS- One day, while driving home from my Aunt's house, we passed an actual Slater's Delicatessen. That's what gave me the idea for this story.

Weird, huh?


	8. Square One

I wasn't as motivated to write the next chapter because nobody reviewed to the last one, but I guess I kind of deserve that, for making you all wait so long…

Anyway, whatever. Read, and if you liked it, review.

* * *

Square One

"_Not that I care, particularly, what Paul Slater thinks about me. I mean, my heart, to coin a phrase, belongs to another._

_Too bad he shows no signs whatsoever of actually wanting it. My heart, that is."_

"Okay. I really can't tolerate this for much longer."

Paul and Jesse looked at me from the other edge of the bed. We were sitting cross-legged on top, trying to figure out everything. Which was a lot.

"I agree," Paul said. "Personally, I think the three of us need more… space." With that, he threw a decidedly unfriendly look at Jesse. He was still sulking about their little tiff, mostly because he didn't get his way. I made him put his toothbrush somewhere else.

"And I agree as well," Jesse commented, returning Paul's not-so-agreeable look. "And," he added, "I think I have an idea of what we can do about it."

Okay, nobody expected Jesse to have a plan of action. I mean, he had just joined the group like four hours ago. But we listened anyway, because it wasn't like anyone _else_ had a plan.

"And what might that idea be?" Paul grinned sarcastically and raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Jesse. Clearly his thought train had run along the same track as mine.

Jesse ignored Paul's facial expression and answered the question as if it had come from me. "Well. Of course you both know that I wasn't on the train this morning riding around just for fun—"

"Oh, you _weren't_? I thought that was what you did for fun."

Ignoring Paul once again, Jesse continued. "I was on my way to visit a friend who lives in Queens. He was the son of a man who was the son of a man who was the son of a man, et cetera, that I used to know when I was alive."

_Wait a minute… what?_

"I mean, the first time around."

_Oh._

"I met him when he was vacationing in California, and I knew who he was immediately because he looked just like his great-great-great-grandfather. Or however many greats it is. I knew I couldn't just walk up to him and tell him _exactly how_ I knew him, because that would be more than _slightly_ strange, so I told him that our great-great-great grandfathers had known each other a half-century ago. He greeted me warmly—just as his ancestor would have—and we became quite good friends over the course of his stay. Before he left, he told me that I was welcome at his Queens apartment anytime. What with this news of Suze's unexpected return to New York, I was going to take him up on his offer."

There was silence for a moment. Paul was the first to speak voicing what were my thoughts as well.

"Okay, that's all swell and everything, but what does that have to do with us, here and now?"

Jesse sighed. Apparently we were supposed to have figured it out already. "Well, I was thinking that we could stay there for the duration of our trip. I am sure he wouldn't mind accommodating two more people, knowing they were friends of mine."

Paul and I looked at each other. Jesse's proposition was sounding pretty good. Heck, anything would've sounded good, considering the conditions we were under just then.

"How soon can we get there?"

Jesse thought for a moment. "I suppose I'll call him tomorrow morning. We should be able to head over there no later than tomorrow night."

Wow. That was pretty great.

"Okay. First matter, taken care of, thanks to Jesse." Jesse beamed, and Paul rolled his eyes. "Next matter: where do we go from here?"

That silenced everyone once again. We hadn't really thought about what we were going to do once we got here. I mean, New York was a very big place. Where on earth would we start?

"Gina."

Jesse and I turned to look at Paul."

"…Well, what else ties her to New York? Anyway, what better place to start?"

"Well, I suppose that's a reasonable idea. But what else do we know about her besides the fact that she and Suze grew up together in Brooklyn?"

The fact was, not much.

But we knew that she lived near Suze's old apartment. And Jesse just happened to know exactly where that was.

"Well, shouldn't we start looking near Suze's old home? I know the address."

_What?_

"How could you possibly know where Suze used to live?"

Jesse shrugged. "Suze and I are very close. We know everything about each other."

Paul made a gruntish noise. Either he was jealous that Suze and Jesse had become so close to each other, or he was jealous that Jesse had, so far, been more useful than he had been.

"Well… that worked out rather nicely. Tomorrow morning, Jesse will call his friend in Queens, and then we'll head out to Brooklyn. Looks like we'll be all over the city tomorrow."

Jesse nodded, as did Paul, albeit rather sulkily.

But Paul wouldn't like the next thing any better. I hesitated before speaking.

"And now… the task at hand."

The sulkiness dropped from Paul's face and was replaced with a look of pure disdain.

"Oh, God, no."

"…so. Who's sleeping where?"

Paul jabbed a finger in Jesse's direction, making no secret of his extreme dislike for the guy. "I am NOT sleeping in the same bed as… that."

Jesse sighed. "What are our other options? It's bad enough that we, as a mixed gender group, are sharing one room, but I am not about to make Samantha share a bed with one of us. Not that I particularly relish the idea of sharing a bed with you either, Paul."

"Honestly, guys, if it's that much of a problem, I don't mind sharing a bed with one of you. As long as you stay on the one side."

Jesse threw me a look. "I'm not about to let you do that. I can't trust Paul to share a bed with a female, and I myself am certainly not going to do such a thing."

Paul narrowed his eyes at Jesse. "What are you implying?"

Jesse looked innocent. "Well, I don't know what you would try to do, sharing a bed with a girl, in a hotel…"

Paul looked aghast. "You think I would try to take advantage of her?"

"Well, I'm just saying…"

"Hey. Never mind all that. If Jesse feels so strongly about it, then I'll take one bed to myself. But there are only two beds. Either you two have to work it out, or one of you has to sleep on the floor. Or in the bathtub."

Paul raised one eyebrow at me. "The _bathtub_?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah. You know. Kyle XY style. I'm sure you'll find it quite comfortable."

"Yes, I'm sure you will, Paul. So why don't you go in and make yourself at home." Jesse smirked, pleased that it looked like he'd have the bed to himself.

"WAIT just a second. You want me to sleep in the _bathtub_? Why not Jesse?"

"Because I have class."

"Oh. _Well, then_. By all means. _Take_ the bed."

"Why, thank you. Much obliged."

"I didn't really mean it, stupid."

"Well that's a shame. I thought we might be able to handle this properly, but I guess not."

"GUYS. Come on. Why can't you just sleep in the bathtub, Paul? Then you won't have to deal with Jesse."

"BUT THE FAUCET _LEAKS_!!! And why do you always side with Jesse, anyway?"

"Because he has class."

Jesse threw a self-satisfied smile at Paul, who was looking indignant.

"Well, just figure it out, you two. I'm going to bed. Try not to solve the conflict too… noisily."

Jesse and Paul looked at each other. The inevitable solution was less than appealing.

"If any one of your body parts remotely touches me, so help me, I'll—"

"Well, you had better not snore, or anything. It's bad enough I have to endure you on this trip."

"GUYS, PLEASE. Don't start."

As eyes rolled and scornful looks were exchanged, I continued to wonder what we were doing here, fumbling around in one of the biggest cities in the world. Sure, we had something of a game plan now, but I couldn't help feeling like we had overlooked something.

* * *

Well, there you have it.

By the way, if you notice any continuity errors with the New York location or with the plot, please excuse them. When I lived in New York, I lived on Long Island, not in the city.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. If you have any comments, PLEASE tell me. Constructive criticism is much appreciated.


	9. Same Old, Same Old

Well, I did promise that I would get it in this week. So here it is, and if it sucks, it's because I wanted to get it in as soon as possible. So, sorry.

By the way, my last three chapters were all in the 40's, hits-wise. I don't really think that's normal. If it is, let me know. If it isn't, then, tell me you absolutely love this and would hate for me to discontinue it, and I might not. This, if you couldn't tell, is really getting tiresome for me (the good part is taking so long to come!). And if my efforts prove fruitless, well, that really sucks.

Hopefully I can make some adjustments, maybe to the summary and whatnot, so that people will stop looking at the Introduction, deciding it's too boring, and leaving.

Anyway, with my rant out of the way, let's continue to CHAPTER NINE! YAHOO!

* * *

Same Old, Same Old

"_All you could really see of Gina was a couple of lumps beneath the comforter, and a lot of bright copper curls spread out across the pillows beneath her head._

'_I'm certain that she's very… cool,' Jesse said, a little hesitantly. _

_Sometimes my twenty-first century vernacular throws him. But that's okay. His frequent employment of Spanish, of which I don't speak a word, throws me."_

"Stop hogging the sheets."

Jesse grunted and rolled over, only to face a very annoyed Paul.

"Do you have a problem?"

Paul made a face. "Yes. I'm cold. And you're totally hogging the sheets."

Jesse smiled sarcastically at him. "You know, it's not too late to move to the bathtub. I'm sure you would quite enjoy having it to yourself. Well, you and the rats, anyway…"

"I am NOT going to give you the satisfaction of getting your way. So you'll just have to surrender the sheets and we'll get through this relatively unscathed… well, maybe just you. I'm already scarred for life…"

"Fine then. Have it your way."

"Fine then."

"Fine."

"Fine."

…

"Fine."

Jesse rolled over and sighed deeply. It looked as if he wasn't going to get very much sleep tonight.

The fact that it was already 2 AM might have helped to indicate this.

Sam was asleep, on the other side of the room, breathing peacefully. Paul had rolled over, facing away from Jesse, probably in order to avoid breathing any of his air. Jesse unconsciously scooted three more inches away from him.

_I'm too tired to wonder what on earth we're doing here._

So tomorrow they were going to see Gina. Well, that should be interesting. And not just because Jesse heartily disagreed with her choice in clothing.

_This is all so strange…_

It was such an unexpected coincidence that they had happened to meet up on the train that day, and for the same basic reason. It had also worked out so perfectly that Jesse had been on his way to see a friend, who would undoubtedly let them stay over for a few days.

How convenient.

It had all been perfectly orchestrated. Or at least, it seemed so.

Lucky for them, anyway.

_Well_, Jesse noted, stealing a glance at Paul, _looks like he's settled down. Finally._

After making absolutely sure that Paul was out cold, Jesse proceeded to gingerly lift the sheets off Paul and take them for himself.

_Sweet dreams. Bastard._

The next morning I awoke to the sound of the sink in the bathroom. Jesse was still asleep on the other bed, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. Paul was, apparently, brushing his teeth or something.

I hoped that Jesse and Paul didn't carry on too much that night. As it was, I was out less than five minutes after I crawled into bed—an incredibly smelly one, in fact. The day before had been a long one, and I was still out of it.

And then I remembered: we were seeing Gina today. We had a lot to do.

Another long day. Yippee.

After deciding that it wouldn't do me any good to lie around in bed, I made an effort to get out of the bed, struggling to get free of the sheets that were strangling me.

The sink went off. That probably meant that Paul was finished.

I proceeded to walk around to the bathroom, tripping over my pajama bottoms the whole way. Just as I was about to knock on the door, it opened.

There stood Paul, bare-chested, with eyes half-closed, and toothbrush in hand.

With emphasis on the bare-chested part.

"Oh… I, uh… sorry."

Paul blinked at me, obviously not awake enough yet to register significant thought. Thank God, because at any other time he would've noticed my lingering eyes.

"Excuse me." A corner of his mouth went up.

_Uh… maybe he __did__ notice. Crap._

I stepped out of the way and let Paul pass.

As he passed I noticed that his hair was sticking up in all different directions, and his posture was a bit saggy. _Maybe he didn't sleep as well as I'd hoped._

Hopefully a sleep-deprived Paul in the morning would not make way for a decidedly-cranky Paul in the afternoon.

I stepped into the bathroom and began my morning ritual, the details of which aren't all that interesting. When I had finished, I opened up the door.

_Well, apparently Jesse's awake_.

Waiting for the bathroom to become unoccupied, Jesse was leaning against the wall, looking no less sleep-deprived than Paul had looked.

He wasn't any less gorgeous, either. Despite the fact that he, apparently with consideration of my feelings, had left his shirt on.

_Aw, rats._

He allowed me to exit the bathroom and then strolled in himself, beginning his own hygienic process.

Paul had apparently had a stroke of genius and changed into his clothes for the day while I was in the bathroom. Conveniently enough. I had no idea how he'd done it that fast, though. I mean, I take ten minutes, on average, in the bathroom every morning, minus shower time.

But none of us were showering that morning. We planned on doing it that night at Jesse's friend's house, where the bathtub would at least be… reasonable.

Plus, we wanted to get a head-start on the day.

Paul was hastily tossing things into his suitcase. It seemed to him that the sooner we leaved this place, the better. My packing was a bit more organized, but no less hasty.

Jesse soon emerged from the bathroom and proceeded to clean up his things, still in his nightshirt. I turned toward my suitcase to place my last folded shirt inside, and when I turned back around, Jesse had changed.

_**OMG HOW DID HE DO THAT?!?!?!**_

Wow, he really just doesn't want to _disrespect_ me… silly Jesse. The _last_ thing I would feel upon glancing at his bare chest would be disrespect.

Paul, of course, was oblivious, sitting on top of his suitcase in order to try and close it. Apparently, his throw-everything-in-and-hate-self-about-wrinkled-clothes-later-when-I've-got-the-time thing had not worked out. He looked particularly amusing, bouncing up and down on his rather well-formed buttocks, trying to jerk the thing closed.

(Horribly out of character, I know. But Meg wanted this one to be funny.)

When Jesse and I had finished packing, and Paul had finished… his thing, we grabbed all our stuff and left the room, making our way down the stairs and out as quickly as possible.

Once the matters of checkout were taken care of, we proceeded to hail a cab, headed for Gina.

Gina.

I was going to meet Gina.

…how weird is that?

* * *

Yay! Done-ness.

I think it was a bit short, but guess what? Tough. I know for sure that I'm following it up soon, though, because I'm already halfway through the next chapter.

Because I'm good like that.

…well, not really. I've probably lost my trustworthy-ness, haven't I? I'm sorry.

…I will respond to reviews, though. I've started doing that now. Unless you ask me where I live or something. Then I will probably just be paranoid and not write again for another three months.

…and you'd hate for that to happen, _wouldn't you?_

Shut up. You know you would miss me.

…right? …I'm loved, right?

…_right?_

Anyway, that all just made for a lot of wasted space. The point of this is to use bad humor in order to get you to feel sorry for me, so that you'll review out of pity for my lame-ness.

…so go and _do it_, already.


	10. And you are?

I just realized a HUGE continuity error on my part:

Paul never met Gina. His debut was the book after.

(your line: LIKE, OH EM GEE SHE'S TOTALLY RIGHT!)

Wow, I am so stupid. I am overlooking the obvious more and more lately.

Well, for the sake of this chapter, I am going to go back and tweak the previous one (the one where PAUL suggests looking for Gina). So now your job is to pretend like I'm NOT an idiot (if you can manage that) in addition to pretending that Paul is _not_ brilliant and _can't_ see the future, like I somehow ended up making him. So basically, Paul doesn't know Gina anymore. If you want, you can go back and reread that part of Square One. There might be some other changes that would be worth seeing. And please, while you're at it, forgive me?

Anyway, this chapter is a longish one (which shouldn't really be a problem), so… I dunno. Don't give up in the middle of it, because the end is the best part anyway. At least, I think so, and I'm the writer, so I should know. Anyway, enjoy.

(Disclaimer-- By the way, there are several other quotes in this chapter besides the top one. You should be able to recognize them, but in case you don't realize it, I'll just let you know that they'll always be in italics, preceeding some shocked reaction from one of the characters.)

* * *

And you are…?

"_Gina appeared, and Kelly broke off mid-sentence. _

_Well, Gina is the kind of girl people break off mid-sentence to admire. She's nearly six feet tall, and the fact that she'd recently had her hair done into a mop of prickly-looking copper-colored tendrils only made her look taller._

_Oh, and the fact that she'd been out in the sun all day had darkened her normally café au lait skin to the color of espresso, always startling when combined with a nose ring and orange hair."_

I hate cabs.

They smell.

I also hate Jesse.

He doesn't smell, but I still hate him.

So if you could possibly imagine, riding in a cab while squished up against Jesse was not the most pleasant experience for me.

And it's not like we were going anywhere special, either. Sam, Jesse and I were on our way to see some girl, who had apparently been friends with Suze while she was living in Brooklyn.

Apparently, I had just missed her. Gina's departure was immediately followed by my arrival into Suze's life.

Which is when all the fun began.

But I'm not supposed to be talking about that. I'm supposed to be talking about the cab ride.

Oh, yes, the cab ride.

…Did I mention that I hate cabs?

Oh, yes, I believe I did say about that. And about the stinking. Right.

Anyway, so we were driving. I watched as the buildings gradually deteriorated all around me—I had begun seeing a similar effect in my life recently—and knew that we were getting close.

Thank God. I was getting tired of that car, and Jesse's lack of smelliness.

I think it was almost worse that he didn't smell. At least if he smelled I might have been able to assert some superiority. _But no… _

We pulled up in front of a building, which was surrounded by other buildings that looked just like it.

So apparently, we were here.

I scrambled out of the taxi almost before it had completely stopped. Not that I was in any rush to see this Gina person. I was just… well, I think I've said it enough times that you should know.

Sam and Jesse followed behind me, although they took their time about it. I was already up to the door by the time they were fully out.

Maybe that's because Jesse took the time to offer Sam his hand and help her out of the cab.

Okay, I mean, _come on_. Who _does that_ anymore?

They came up behind me, and then we all just kind of stood in front of the door for a while, looking at each other.

Sam shrugged, sighed, and pushed the doorbell. I could almost read her mind: _Well, here goes nothing._ I actually could have read her mind, if I wanted to. But I wasn't really keeping up with all that shifting stuff. My reasons had deserted me. My _reason_ had deserted me.

I was jerked from my musings about mind reading and Suze when the door opened, revealing a tall, curious-looking girl with an equally curious expression on her face.

"Can I help you?"

----------------------

So this was Gina. In person.

I had that familiar _PANG!_ shoot through me as I encountered another cast-member of the Mediator series. I realized again how incredibly weird the whole thing was.

She was tall. Very tall. She was dressed in a shimmery silver top, black jeans, and had a mop of blonde curls with purple tips (apparently, she had gotten tired of the copper).

Apparently, Gina herself was a little weirded-out, too. But not for the same reasons.

It then occurred to me that she wouldn't recognize us. We had completely taken it for granted that Gina would comply with our requests all the way around, but that might be a little more difficult than we expected, being that we appeared as complete and total strangers to our first and only lead. Paul, of course, never met her; I had my own situation; and Jesse, although having seen her before, had not himself been seen by Gina. This, of course, was due to the fact that he had been dead at the time.

Gosh, that sounds really weird.

Gina stared back at us, and Jesse ended up being the first to speak up. Of course, he was the only one who had ever encountered her previously, so he probably had a better idea of going about it than me or Paul did.

"Hello, Gina."

Gina, apparently, had been highly impressed by

A) The fact that he knew her name, or

B) The fact that he happened to be extremely good-looking, or

C) The fact that Paul happened to be rather appealing himself.

Honestly, I couldn't blame her. I mean, I _did_ recall something about Gina not being too discriminative in the boy department… but come on. Two hot guys show up on your doorstep, knowing your name. What would _you_ do?

Well, at least this meant that our little meeting wasn't going to be nearly as difficult as I'd feared.

Gina moved aside and gestures us into the house. I watched as her eyes fell upon Jesse and an expression of curiosity spread across her face. She closed the door behind us deliberately, not paying attention to it at all.

I think she knew something very strange was about to happen to her. Because I could tell myself when I left the delicatessen that afternoon.

The apartment was good sized; it looked a bit modern, yet comfortable. There were lots of colors and rugs everywhere, but I could tell that she's had the furniture for quite some time. Nevertheless, it looked like a nice place to spend one's pre-graduation days.

She led us into the foyer, and the three of us took a seat on a red couch. Jesse sat in the middle, and Paul and I were on either side of him. Gina sat across from us and reclined in a blue chair. She did not seem at all fazed to have three random strangers appear at her apartment, indicated by the fact that she slouched down in the chair and stuck her feet up on the table in the middle, pushing some magazines aside in the process.

Even so, she still maintained a business-like attitude. She folded her hands across her stomach. Then she looked straight at Jesse and raised an eyebrow.

"Do I know you?"

I'm sure that if she'd been asking Paul, the answer would have been, "Would you like to?"

But we must remember that this was not Paul; it was Jesse. Jesse doesn't work like that.

Jesse gave a half-smile, but in a completely un-flirty way. "No, you don't know me." He paused for a minute, as if deeply considering his next words.

"But I know you."

The weirdness of the situation, I could see, had finally started to affect Gina. She sat up a little bit in the chair and was no longer disguising her curiosity and confusion.

Well, with Jesse's announcement, I'm sure I would have been a little freaked out, too.

Jesse continued, knowing Gina's next request would be for him to clarify the statement he'd just made.

He took a breath. "I know Susannah Simon. You are her best friend, right?"

Well, at least we had a connection, now. We were tied to her somehow.

Gina sat up a bit more still. "Yes. I know her." She eyed Jesse, her curiosity growing.

And I noticed something else: suspicion.

Jesse went on. "Did she ever mention anyone named… Jesse?"

At this, Gina gasped and her eyes widened.

I felt her surprise and shock all the way across the room. That name… so it meant something to her.

Suze had told her after all.

_Jesse_… say that to anyone on the street and they won't know, nor care, what you're talking about. But to a certain group of people, or several different groups of people, that name can instill a variety of feelings.

For Gina, it was pure amazement, surprise, and shock.

Gina gripped the arms of the chair tightly, and I shivered. Paul looked around nervously.

Jesse conveyed no emotion at all.

"_Jesse?_"

It was almost a whisper.

"Aren't you Suze's…

…Suze's…"

She couldn't find the right word.

"…friend?"

Jesse seemed to find the whole mystery idea rather interesting. A corner of his mouth went up.

"So you know of me."

Gina's next expression was one that I couldn't easily read. It was either annoyance that Jesse was beating around the bush about things or a recollection of previous events.

Or both.

"Yes, I know of you."

Then she made a face, like she didn't even believe herself what was about to come out of her mouth.

"…you used to be dead."

That statement alone, I think, is what caused the simultaneous realization of this wild, unpredictable endeavor.

We were running around in New York, with two of us who weren't supposed to have actually existed in real life. Now, three, actually.

We had a series of six books whose content, it seemed, directly translated to the experiences we were going through now.

And, oh yes, one of us used to be dead.

I had almost forgotten that part.

Apparently, Paul had gotten tired of Jesse's indirect method of petitioning for help. His voice broke through the nervous tension like a wave crashing upon the shore.

"Gina."

She turned her head at him with wide eyes, her cool officially lost. She tilted her head, slightly, questioningly.

Paul went on.

"There is something very strange going on. It started out with Suze's absence, but now… it's developed into something else. We need to show you something."

That was my cue.

Hand shaking, I unzipped one of my bags, and pulled out a book.

_Reunion._

I handed it to Paul, who passed it off to Gina.

Who reacted with even greater shock upon noticing her name printed on the first page.

"_Now this," Gina said, "is the life."_

Shock appeared, then confusion, and then shock again.

"I said that!"

_Well, Gina is the kind of girl people break off mid-sentence to admire. She's nearly six feet tall, and the fact that shed recently had her hair done into a mop of prickly-looking copper-colored tendrils, forming a four- or five-inch aura all the way around her head, only made her look taller. She also happened to have on a black vinyl bikini, over which she'd tugged on shorts that appeared to be made from the pull tabs off a lot of soda cans. _

Her gasp became something more like a choke. She put her hand to her chest.

"There… is… no… way."

Her breathing became rapid. It seemed to be contagious, because soon all four of us were out of breath.

Seeing Gina's reaction, Paul glanced at my bag.

_Maybe he had underestimated it. Maybe he thought that his name was the only thing that he had in common with the text._

_Why would he assume so much?_

Jesse, for the first time, looked nervous as well. It appeared that he hadn't understood the gravity of the situation, either.

He had seen his name in the book. He had read Suze's thoughts inside of it, even. But it was as if he had conveniently accepted those facts, proceeding along in order to progress in the plot.

The plot.

Gina read on and developed a look that might have been labeled as terror. Seeing this, Paul darted over and dug a hand into my bag.

He pulled out _Haunted_.

"_It's not because of Craig that you're asking, though, is it?" His blue-eyed gaze bore into mine. There wasn't the slightest hint of a smile on his face anymore. "Suze, when are you going to get it?" That was when I finally noticed how close his face was to mine. Just inches away, really. I started instinctively to pull away, but the fingers that had been holding down Dr. Slaski's papers suddenly lifted and seized my wrist. "Jesse's dead," Paul said. "But that doesn't mean you have to act like you are, too." "I don't," I protested. "I—" …but I didn't get to finish my little speech, because right in the middle of it, Paul leaned over and kissed me._

I suddenly saw Paul's face take on the same expression that Gina had. I didn't know if it was the experience itself or the fact that it had been documented that made him breathless.

Of course, seeing this reaction from Paul, Jesse had become exceedingly curious. He looked at me and I nodded, allowing him access to my collection.

_Shadowland_, the book that Jesse had seen on the day we first encountered each other, had found its way back to my bag. Apparently, Jesse hadn't thought it of too much consequence, and had returned it.

Not he was doubting himself. He picked it up once more.

_He blinked at me with those big dark eyes. His eyelashes were longer than mine. It isn't often that I run into a ghost who also happens to be a hottie, but this guy… boy, he must have been something back when he was alive… He had turned a little and put a boot up onto the pale blue cushion that covered the window seat, and I had seen definitive proof that yes, ghosts could indeed have six-packs. His abdominal muscled were deeply ridges, and covered with a light dusting of silky black hair. I swallowed. Hard._

Jesse's shock was of a different variety than Paul's or Gina's. I could only guess as to the passage he was currently reading.

Then they all looked up at the same time, and traded books.

Horror on this side, surprise on that side, confusion once more.

"Clearly we underestimated this."

All eyes turned to Jesse. His breathing reminded me of a runner who was surprised to discover that he wasn't as fit as last time.

"How could we not see this? It was right in front of us the whole time. We blew it off, fumbling around with no clear destination in mind. Was Suze really the only reason behind this trip?"

At that moment, something broke over us, like a bucket full of ice water was dumped on our heads.

We had broken free of the mold. From this point on, there wasn't going to be any more convenience. The story structure had fallen apart; we were on our own now.

You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?

I can't tell you. Not now, anyway.

Because our discovery was still new, the words were still ringing in our ears. We had all just begun to grasp the concept that _these books were our lives_—with the exception of me, of course.

Which left open another question: where did I fit in to all of this?

I suppose I was just another convenience.

* * *

Wow. I liked this chapter a lot more than I thought I would. And the good news is, I know exactly where I want the whole Gina thing to go from here, so it won't take me forever and two years to write the next one. 

Nevertheless, I spent quite a bit of time on this (causing me to fall behind on my homework—that's right, I put you guys ahead of school, be proud), so I can't say I'm entirely eager to dive right into Chapter Eleven (eleven!) right this second.

Or the next second. Or the one after that.

But anyway, I love it when people review. It's not hard. And I know you might think it's embarrassing, or whatever, or you think I won't appreciate it, or something… or I don't know. People have psychological problems sometimes.

So don't be one of those people. Review.

(So let's see if psychology works better than bad humor.)


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